Having been perfectly trained in the role I am to play, on the morrow I arrive at nine o’clock at the Abbaye de Saint-Victor, where the holy man lodged when stopping in Paris; he was attending me in bed.
He turned toward a very beautiful woman of about thirty and whose function there, I guessed, was to act as a kind of administrator during the Archbishop’s lubricious frolickings. “Madame Lacroix, will you have that little girl I see there step nearer.” He peered at me for a while. “Eh, no, it’s not bad, truly not bad. And how old is my little cherubim?”
“Fifteen and a half, Monseigneur.”
“Why then, Madame Lacroix, you might undress her. You will remember to be careful, omit none of the customary precautions.”
No sooner was I naked than I readily divined the purpose of these precautions. The devout sectator of Sodom, what with his extreme apprehensiveness lest the anterior charms of a woman upset the illusion he was laboring to form, required that these attractions be screened so completely from his view that the possibility of even suspecting their existence be circumvented. And, indeed, Madame Lacroix swaddled me up so thoroughly that not the least trace of them remained to be seen. This done, the accommodating creature led me to Monseigneur’s bedside.
“The ass, Madame, the ass,” said he, “and, I beseech you, nothing but the ass. Pause for a moment: have you taken every necessary step?”
“I have, Monseigneur, and your Eminence will notice that as I expose to him the part he desires to behold, I offer to his libertine homage the prettiest virgin ass it were possible to embrace.”
“Yes, yes, upon my soul,” Monseigneur mutters, “’tis rather handsomely turned; stand back there, I’m going to caress it a little.”
Lacroix maintaining me at the elevation and in the posture required in order that the dear Archbishop be able to kiss my buttocks at leisure, he fondles and rubs his face everywhere upon them for the space of a quarter of an hour. You may be sure that the caress most favored by people addicted to this taste—the caress, I wish to say, consisting in the profound insinuation of the tongue into the anus—is one of the central features of the Archbishop’s routine; and his most uncompromising aversion for the neighboring aperture is at one point manifested when, my cunt lips yawning ever so slightly, by mischance his tongue glides between them and, instantly recoiling, he thrusts me away with a look of such prodigious disgust and disdain that, had I been his mistress, I’d have fled twenty leagues away from his Eminence. This preliminary examination over, Lacroix undresses; when she is nude, Monseigneur rises up from his bed.
“Child,” says he, now placing me on the bed and adjusting me in the attitude his pleasures necessitate, “I trust that you have received somewhat by way of preparatory counsel. Docility and thoughtfulness, there are two qualities we cannot forego.”
Gazing at him with innocence’s wide-open eyes and candor, I assured Monseigneur that he’d not find me wanting in willingness to do his whole bidding.
“Very well, let us hope so. For the least disobedience will displease me beyond measure and, considering my extreme difficulty in getting the task properly started, you’ll appreciate how distressed I am apt to become if, showing a lack of cooperation, you bring all our efforts to nought. I can say no more to you. Madame Lacroix, oil the passage and try to pilot my prick into the channel with skill enough, once we’re in there, we’ll attempt to stick fast for a few moments before the discharge that will reward us for all this damnable trouble.”
The amiable Lacroix seemed ready to move heaven and earth, so painstaking were her attentions. The Archbishop was not overly furnished; my complete resignation joined to Lacroix’ knowing maneuvers swiftly crowned the undertaking with success.
“Ah, there, that would seem to be it,” said the saintly man. “Faith, it’s been ages since I’ve had anything like so tight a fuck, oh, indeed! this is a virgin asshole I’m in, damn me if it’s not…. Lacroix, here, Lacroix, take your place, for everything indicates that my sperm is readying to spill into this celestial stoup.”
That was the signal: Madame Lacroix rings and there arrives a second woman, at whom I had time only to glance quickly. Her sleeve is rolled up, in her hand she grasps a bundle of switches, she falls to belaboring the pontifical behind whilst Lacroix, leaping astride me, bends forward and offers her hind quarters to be colled and nuzzled by the lewd sodomite. He, rapidly vanquished by this combination of libidinous episodes, ejaculates into my anus a copious mead the cadence of whose spurts is determined by the stout blows ravaging his backside.
And that is that. Spent, Monseigneur climbs into bed again; his breakfast chocolate is ordered brought in; his governess puts her clothes back on, she bids me go with the second woman. The latter, she of the sinewy arm, shows me to the door, hands me the fifty louis for Duvergier and two more for myself, puts me in a cab and instructs the coachman to take me home.
At the house the next day there’s pointed out to me a man of about fifty, very pale, with a very somber eye. That countenance augurs nothing good.
Before leading me into the apartment where he has been waiting, Duvergier cautions me not to refuse anything this individual may ask of me. “He is one of my best patients, and if you disappoint him, my practice will suffer irreparably.”
The man is given to sodomy; after some characteristic preliminaries, he turns me over, has me stretch out flat on the bed, and readies to embugger me. His hands grope about my buttocks, clutch them fast, spread them, the bugger is already in an ecstasy before the sweet little hole—and then it strikes me as very odd, indeed, the way he keeps himself out of sight, or at least this way he has of concealing his prick. Suddenly alarmed by some premonition, I twist around … and what do my eyes behold! Great God, an instrument positively covered with pustules … seeping, oozing sores … chancres, etc., abominable and only too eloquent symptoms of the venereal malady that is fairly consuming this ugly personage.
“Sir!” I cry, “are you mad? Look at the condition you are in! Have you any idea what you are about? Do you want to ruin me definitively?”
“What!” says the lecher, muttering through clenched teeth and making as if to take me by force, “what’s this! Objections! You’ll do your protesting to the mistress of this house, she’ll tell you whether I know what I’m about. Do you suppose I’d pay such a price for women if it wasn’t for the pleasure of infecting them with my disease? I delight in nothing else; madness indeed! Do you suppose I wouldn’t get myself cured if I didn’t enjoy this?”
“Oh, I can assure you, Sir, no one told me of this—” and I rushed out of the room, found Duvergier and, as you may well imagine, upbraided her very energetically. The client overheard our argument, he came to where we were; he and Duvergier exchanged glances.
“Calm yourself, Juliette—”
“Ah no, damn me if I’ll be calm, Madame,” said I, furious. “I’m not blind, I’ve seen what that gentleman—”
“Come, come now, you’re surely mistaken. Be a good girl, Juliette, and return—”
“Never,” said I, “I know what you’re up to. To think! That you were willing to sacrifice me—”
“My dear Juliette—”
“Your dear Juliette’s advice to you is to find someone else for the job. Hurry … the gentleman’s waiting….”
Duvergier sighed, shrugged her shoulders.
“Sir—” she began.
But he, having sworn to himself he’d ruin me, was greatly reluctant to accept a substitute; only after long and heated discussion did he cede and agree to poison someone else. In the end, however, everything was arranged, a new girl appeared, and I withdrew. My replacement was a little novice of thirteen or so, they blindfolded her, she suspected nothing, the operation was performed. It was a success: a week later she had to be sent to the hospital. Notified, the libertine betook himself there to contemplate her sufferings. Such was his keenest delight; Duvergier assured me that ever since she’d first become acquainted with him he had never c
ared for anything else.
Fifteen or sixteen others, of similar tastes but in good physical health, passed through my hands and over my body in the course of a month which I remember as one distinguished by some rather unusual episodes; and then came the day when I was dispatched to the home of a man, also a sodomite, whose buggeries were distinguished by details I simply must not pass over. And you’ll be all the more interested in them when I tell you that this individual is our own Noirceuil, who’s just left us for a few days. He’ll be back by the time I’ve completed my narrative; not that he would be disinclined to listen to such adventures. But he already knows mine by heart.
Through an incredible excess of debauchery altogether worthy of the engaging individual you all know and with whom I shall perhaps be able to make one or two of you a little better acquainted, Noirceuil liked to have his wife be witness to his libertinage, to have her collaborate in it, and then to subject her to it. I should remark that Noirceuil, when we first met, thought I was a maid, and that he wished to deal only with girls who were virginal, at least in that sector.
Madame de Noirceuil was a very gracious and gentle woman and she could not have been beyond twenty years old. Given at a very tender age to her husband, he a man of about forty and of a libertinage which simply knew no limits, I leave you to suppose for yourselves what this appealing creature must have had to put up with since the first day she became the slave of that roué. Husband and wife were in the boudoir when I entered; a moment after my arrival, Noirceuil rang, and two lads of seventeen and eighteen came in by another door. They were nearly naked.
“My dear, I have been given to understand that you possess the world’s most splendid ass,” Noirceuil said to me once the company was assembled. “Madame,” he continued, addressing his wife, “do please have the kindness to unveil this marvel.”
“Oh, indeed, Monsieur de Noirceuil,” replied that poor little woman, all confused and ashamed, “the things you demand of me….”
“They are of an eminent simplicity, Madame; it’s strange, one would suppose you’d have become accustomed to them, since you’ve been performing them for quite some time now. Your attitude mystifies me. Does not a wife have her duties? and do I not allow you the amplest opportunities to fulfill them? Passing strange, so I think, that as yet you have not taken a rational approach to the matter.”
“Oh, I never shall!”
“So much the worse for you; when one is under unavoidable obligation to do some particular thing, a hundred times better to do it with a good grace than turn it into a daily torture. But that is your own affair. Will you, Madame, promptly attend to mine: unclothe this child.”
Out of sympathy for the poor woman, to spare her needless affliction, I was about to take off my clothes myself when Noirceuil, interceding, bade me stop and, raising a threatening hand to his wife, left her no choice but to obey. While his wife proceeded with her task, Noirceuil, the object of his two comrades’ affectionate by-play, used both hands to excite them; in return, one youth massaged his prick, the other stimulated his asshole. As soon as I am naked, Noirceuil has his wife steer my ass toward him: she holds my buttocks for him to kiss, and kiss them he does, with surpassing lewdness; next, he has the two lads stripped—stripped by Madame de Noirceuil who, once she has collected and folded the clothing lying on the floor, takes off her own. Noirceuil, naked also, thus finds himself in the center of a group comprised of two attractive women and a pair of pretty boys. At this stage indifferent to the pricks and cunts which are there displayed and very available, he concentrates upon ministering to his favorite altar, masculine and feminine buttocks alike receive this effusion of wholehearted homage, and I doubt whether behinds were ever more lasciviously kissed. The rascal arranged us in many different ways, sometimes placed a boy atop a woman so as to create powerful and luxurious contrasts. Sufficiently aroused, he finally orders his wife to stretch me belly down upon the boudoir’s couch and herself to steady his prick along its course into my entrails; first, however, he has her prepare his entry by tonguing my vent. As you know, Noirceuil has a prick measuring seven inches around, in length it exceeds eleven; ’twas hence not without excruciating difficulty I managed to incorporate it: but thanks to much determination and the deft assistance furnished by his wife, he buries himself up to the height of his balls. Meanwhile, now the prick of one acolyte, now that of the other disappeared into his own ass. Then, placing his wife beside me and in an identical posture, the libertine bade his youthful aides subject her to the same lubricious exercising he was giving me; one prick lying idle, Noirceuil grabbed it and, the while embuggering me, stuffed it into the delicate anus of his gentle helpmeet. There was a moment when she strove to resist—but, reaching his hand forward, the cruel husband brought her immediately to heel.
“Excellent,” says he contentedly once the whole complex operation is under way, “what more could I ask? My ass is being fucked, I’m fucking the ass of a virgin, I’ve got someone fucking my wife’s. Indeed, unto my pleasure now nothing wants.”
“Oh, Sir!” groans the libertine’s conscience-stricken lady, “do you then derive it from my despair?”
“I do, Madame, and in significant measure. You know me to be frank in these matters and so you will believe me when I affirm that my enjoyment would be far less were you any more willing to comply with it.”
“Shameless man!”
“Bless my soul, yes, a faithless, godless, unprincipled, unscrupulous man, that is to say, a frightful fellow, I don’t deny it. Say on, say on, sweet nightingale, sing thy invectives in my ear; doth she realize how these feminine plaints, as though possessing a very magic, steel my prick and speed my discharge? Juliette, hold steady there, be firm, squeeze a little: it flows.”
And, fucking, fucked, watching fuck, into the depths of my bowels the thrice-happy rascal hurls his thunderbolt. The entire company discharges, the knot of convulsing participants unties itself; but Noirceuil, the avid Noirceuil, ever the tyrant to his wife, Noirceuil, who, to arouse himself afresh, already feels in need of imposing a further vexation, this Noirceuil inquires, “Madame is ready to proceed to the next item on the program?”
“Is there then some divine necessity that requires you forever to repeat this execrable—”
“A divine necessity, Madame, precisely. My happiness decrees it.”
And the infamous Noirceuil, having his wife lie full length upon the couch, summons me, has me straddle her, and deposit in her open mouth the fuck he has lately injected into my ass. Obliged to obey, I unloose a generous load and, I admit, not without a little tremor of wickedness I gaze down to see virtue thus so cruelly humiliated by vice; the woebegone lady gobbles up the soup and had she not swallowed every drop away, I dare say her husband might have strangled her.
’Twas from witnessing this outrage that the unkind husband, much inspirited, discovered the strength to commit still others. In position once again, Madame de Noirceuil’s ass was successively sounded by her husband’s prick and by those of his gallant young friends. You cannot imagine the speed those three sodomites worked with, one leaping to the breach, thrusting, retiring, to be replaced in a flash by another and he the next instant by the third, and so was waged the war whilst Noirceuil fingered my buttocks. After this, his narrowed eyes trained upon his wife’s slightly parted buttocks, Noirceuil embuggered each of the youths. While bum-stuffing the first of them, he enjoined the second and me to lay hands upon his wife’s buttocks, he to fist one and I the other, and vigorously to knead, to worry those richly fleshed half-spheres, and whenever Noirceuil chanced to discharge into the one or the other of those boys’ behinds, he’d straightway have his fuck decanted into the mouth of his unfortunate wife.
And the tempo of these infamies increased apace; Noirceuil promised two louis to whoever of us three most successfully teased the victim: the rules of the game admitted blows of the fist, kicks, bites, slaps, pinches, indeed, there were hardly any rules at all; and the scoundrel, exhorting
us to play fiercely, frigged himself while observing the contest. There’s no imagining the tricks those lads and I invented; we only left off our practical jokes when Madame de Noirceuil lost consciousness. Then, approaching Noirceuil, who was all afire, we environed him with our asses and rubbed his fuming prick upon the ill-starred lady’s bruised and lacerated body. Next, Noirceuil turned me over to his tireless boys: now one of them would ass-fuck me while the other tendered me his prick to suck, and now, sandwiched between the two of them, I sometimes had both their tools wedged in my cunt, or, at other times, I simultaneously entrapped one prick in my anus and the other in my vulva.
We were in the midst of working these wonders when, I remember, Noirceuil, reluctant to see a single one of my orifices vacant, stabbed his member into my mouth and there let fly with his final discharge while my cunt and bowels were washed by the two little pederasts’ exhalations; the four of us went off all at once: great God, never have I been rent by such pleasures.
My looks and my evil little aptitudes had taken Noirceuil’s fancy, he invited me to stay to supper with his two young playmates. We ate in charming surroundings; the table was served only by Madame de Noirceuil, all unclad, whom her husband promised a scene that would outdo the recent one if she failed to perform suitably her menial chores.
Noirceuil, of course, is a wit. You’ll agree that where it comes to constructing rational bases to one’s irrational extravagances, the man has few peers. I’d thought to hazard some reproaches for his comportment toward his wife: “Truly,” said I, “’tis rare, the injustice you subject that poor creature to….”
Juliette Page 17
